


If You Go Down to the Woods Today.....

by telemachus



Series: Rising-verse [30]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Elflings, F/M, Fluff, Ithilien, M/M, elves care for animals, oliphaunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 00:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1760333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telemachus/pseuds/telemachus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ithilien, some years post Ring war. Everything is peaceful. except - elves - a certain elf - can't help but - follow the tracks.........</p><p>basically a little bit of fluff about elves, elflings & animals, which I wrote for my son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Go Down to the Woods Today.....

**Author's Note:**

> Caradhil is the elf who rules Ithilien when Legolas is off *playing* in Aglarond (& indeed, most of the rest of the time......but that is another story). Meieriel is the elf with whom he has children - not his wife - she would object to that word.

Stop wriggling, elf.

Am tired. Far too early in the sodding morning for this.

Want to sleep.

No. Apparently not.

“Gimli – Gimli – look!”

What? What the - ? I don’t know what it is, and, you know what, I don’t bloody care. It is not worth waking me for.

I roll over and look at him. He is practically bouncing with excitement.

“Look at these tracks. Look. I saw it – I saw it pass us – come and see, it is an oliphaunt. Sam said he saw one, it must have stayed here. Hidden.”

Hidden? An oliphaunt? 

I think your elf-eyes, and all those of your group, not to mention Faramir’s men – rangers they call themselves – must be sorely lacking if a sodding oliphaunt can hide for – what is it now? Near ten years?

But if I say this, it will be a challenge. No.

“I think, if it is hidden, it probably wants to stay hidden,” I try, “shouldn’t you let it alone, be kind to the poor little oliphaunt?” please. They are dangerous. Just leave it, elf.

I don’t know why I bother.

He looks at me, with those eyes,  
“I – I am just going to follow it. See where it lives. Then we can leave it in peace. Yes. Stay here, meleth, your dwarvish racket will upset it.” And he is gone before I can begin to express my opinion on that.

 

 

Of course, I cannot go back to sleep. And as I watch the sun climb in the spring sky, I worry. Daft sodding elf. What is he doing?

 

“Annabon, annabon, le gerin annabon........” always the bloody singing.

Then he appears. 

Smiling.

“Come Gimli, let us go and find breakfast,” he says, innocently.

No more is said until we are among his elves, and I for one am a lot happier with hot rolls and fresh-caught fish inside me. Then he begins, but he is not addressing me, he is talking very earnestly to – Tegylwen and Taithel.

“Do you know what I found this morning?” he starts, and, as they look at him, wondering, “I found – I followed it – so now I know where it lives – something that has been hiding from us all these years. Something very big. And grey. And noisy. And – it makes the earth shake when it walks – and – it has a very long nose – and big, big ears – “

“AN OLIPHAUNT?!” of course, it is Tegylwen who gets it. She is older. And – always the one to speak first. But it is little Taithel whose eyes are as round as buttons,

“An oliphaunt?” he whispers, “really, Le-las? Really?”

He nods solemnly, and their eyes watch him. Awed.

“Really,” he says, “and I will take you to see her. If Ada and Naneth say you may.”

Both elflings immediately look at their parents,  
“Please Naneth,”  
“Please Ada,”  
“Please can we see the oliphaunt?”  
“Oliphaunts? Please?”

I am not sure which parent looks more dubious about this expedition. 

“My prince, what is this?” Caradhil is trying for stern. Good luck with that, I think.

“It is an oliphaunt. Caradhil – it must have been here all these years. It – it is quite harmless. I – I will not take them close. Just to see it though. Surely that would be a good idea – you – you would not think I would let anything happen to them?”

I look at Caradhil. He is not at all sure about this. He opens his mouth, and I know, I know he is going to forbid it, when

“Please Ada. Please?” Taithel starts. And oh, I know this elfling, he can keep it up for hours.

“Ada, it would be – educational. Please. I expect Legolas will let you come too.” Tegylwen is more for reasoned argument, I notice.

Caradhil looks at Meieriel,  
“What do you think, mellon-nin?” he is clearly hoping for a refusal. If I am honest, so am I. She is one of the few who can resist Tegylwen. And Legolas, come to that. 

Instead, she shrugs,  
“They are elves. I daresay they have sense enough to keep quiet, and keep back. But we will go too.” She looks at me, with a question, “what say you, lord Gimli? Is it safe?”

“No idea,” I say, “I am certainly not going creeping up on some bloody great animal that wants to be left alone and is trained for war. You are the woodland elves. Up to you. But – for what its worth, I would say it comes into the category of “more dangerous, less wise”.”

He glares at me,  
“Gimli-nin, you are growing soft in your peace-time habits. It is just an animal. And – no, you must come. Come and see,” and as I am still not impressed, he adds, “I challenge you. Are you scared? Show me you are not.”

Bloody elf. Can’t get out of it now. 

“Hmph, well, when I am not scared, and you are proved foolish to attempt this, this so educational trip – I will demand two forfeits, princeling,” I say, and he smiles. He knows he will never – never – have to pay me a forfeit he will not enjoy.

Caradhil is looking from Meieriel to me with horror,  
“You two – are actually considering – letting – my elflings – my most precious elflings – go near this creature?”

We shrug.

“It is not up to me what your elflings do,” I say, “there is only one elf I am responsible for, and he has been near this creature once.” Besides, I think, I have seen him kill one before now.

“They are quite sensible,” Meieriel says, “do not you be over-protective, Finbonaurion.”

“Oliphaunt, Ada.”  
“Please Ada, take us to see the oliphaunt.”

Caradhil looks at his elflings, and the big wide appealing eyes look up at him. He looks at his prince, and the same wide eyes beg him.

He sighs, and looks for his bow. As does Meieriel.

I find my throwing axes.

Legolas, I notice, has no weapons.

Daft sodding elf. What is he going to do?

Sing to it?

 

And so we go, off to see the oliphaunt.

Elf-song very quiet. All of them. Even the little ones. Even though they are bouncing with excitement. Much as my elf was earlier.

I think I must be mad.

 

And then, he motions to us to stop. To drop to the ground, and wriggle forward beside him.

He points.

And in a whisper, so quiet, so careful it barely moves the air, he says,  
“There. Naneth oliphaunt, Ada oliphaunt and all the little oliphaunts.”

We look.

 

There are indeed, a whole family of oliphaunts.

I look at Caradhil, wondering how his elves have missed them, and then – then I see something in his gaze. You knew, I think, you bloody knew. And I watch him look at my elf, and I understand. 

He looks at me, he must feel my eyes on him, and he nods. Yes. I knew. And I knew too what my prince would do. So I kept very quiet.

He is a clever one.

 

Tegylwen turns to her father, and almost soundlessly,  
“Ada, I want to go closer. It will be alright if I am with Legolas.” 

And the two of them – get up and begin to flit forward as only elves can.

Even Meieriel looks unhappy at this.

Taithel is most annoyed.  
“No fair,” he squeaks, “no fair. Want go oliphaunts with Le-las. Pretty Le-las take me see oliphaunts.”

“When you are bigger, ion-nin, when you are bigger,” his father is quick to hush him, but his mother and I are watching in horror, as his noise has drawn the attention of the herd matriarch. Who is now looking directly at Legolas and Tegylwen.

Oh shit.

They freeze. And, as only elves can, they almost melt into the shrubbery.

But, it seems, oliphaunts are wiser than – dwarves for example.

This oliphaunt begins to approach them. Meieriel and Caradhil silently ready their bows, and I find my axes. I touch Caradhil on the shoulder – I know he is the faster of the two – and I point to him and then to his daughter. I point to Meieriel and then to Taithel, and he nods, agreeing. If necessary, when there is chance, he will get Tegylwen, Meieriel will take Taithel. And I – I will hope my bloody stupid elf can move fast enough to get us both out of here. 

 

But the oliphaunt – does not charge. She stops. Right in front of the two elves, she stops, and looks at them, and now that her feet no longer crunch through the vegetation, I realise – yes. My daft elf is singing. 

A very calming, gentle song.

He steps out, so slow, so calm. Still singing.

And – fuck me. The oliphaunt kneels down in front of him. She – I do not believe what I am seeing – she – it is as though she uses her trunk to point to her ear.

My elf walks round to look. And I feel the adults beside me tense, as he leaves their daughter. But – she is a sensible thing, that one. She stands very still, and I can hear her little voice joining, in a descant, his song.

He is looking at the ear, reaching up, doing something, and – patting it? Then he shows something in his hand to the creature, and – throws it. Far into the bushes, away. The oliphaunt touches her trunk to her forehead, and then to his.

She rises, slowly, carefully, and watches.

The two of them back away.

She watches until they are almost at us, and then turns and goes to her family.

 

 

Caradhil takes Tegylwen’s hand and leads us all away. He is walking very fast, and I can see he is absolutely livid with rage. Once we have rejoined the other elves, he turns, but before he can speak, Taithel says,  
“Like oliphaunts. Nice Le-las. Very pretty. See more oliphaunts one day?”

“Yes, ion-nin,” Meieriel is quick to reassure him, “perhaps when you are bigger, you and I will wander to the lands they come from. There will be many different animals and trees there.”

“Lots oliphaunts? Lots ovver aminals?”

“Yes. Would you like that? You and me, and maybe some friends?”

“Yes. Me and Naneth. Just us.”

“Just you and me then. Yes.” They look at each other, and there is a blissful exclusion of the world on their faces, then they start, and how the sweet Durin do elves do this, they start up with the “Annabon, annabon, le gerin annabon,” singing. The two of them go off, full of their plans, but I – I see something twist in Caradhil’s face as he turns to Tegylwen,  
“Not us apparently, iel-nin. Shall we go somewhere else, that day?”

“No, Ada, don’t be silly,” she really is distressingly like her father, this one, “we shall not go anywhere. The elves here couldn’t manage without you. And you couldn’t manage without me.” And she smiles, reassuringly at him. He bends down, and they touch noses – that is a new one – and stroke ears, before she bids us farewell for now, as she must tell everyone what has been happening, all about the oliphaunt, how clever Legolas was, how it wants to be left alone now.

When she is gone, Caradhil lets out his breath and begins,  
“Prince, never, never have I been so angry with you. What did you think you were doing? That is my daughter. My daughter. You – how could you? How could you risk her? I – I could shake you. If – if you ever do such a thing again with one of my children, I will do more than shake you. What were you playing at?”

My elf holds up his hands in surrender,  
“Peace, Caradhil,” he says, “your daughter is well. I would not let harm come to her. And nor would Gimli. You know this. You know this. The oliphaunt – she was hurt. She – they must have pierced her ear long ago, for decoration. It pained her. You – you would not have me turn away from such a pain?”

They gaze at each other in silence. And I think there is something going on here I do not really understand. Bloody elves and their ears.

Oh. Caradhil’s ears. Yes. He risked them once. For my Legolas.

Hmph.

He sighs,  
“I know this. But – you have no elfling. You do not know what it does to me to see her at risk. Forgive me, my sweet prince.”

And they – oh Mahal – now they are doing the whole ear-touching thing.

I sigh, and shift my feet. Not loudly, but they are elves. I don’t need to be loud. They both look round.

“There was a wager,” I say, “and I was not scared, but you – you were clearly foolish. Caradhil and I agree. And that is most unusual. Two forfeits, please, elf.”

Caradhil grins, and as my Legolas turns to me, he – he gives him a push, so that he lands sprawling at my feet. Caradhil walks away, singing triumphantly, and my elf looks up at me, those big wide eyes asking a question.

“Ach, no,” I say, “that still only counts as one,” I have a better forfeit in mind than that.

And we laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> Sindarin
> 
> Annabon, annabon, le gerin annabon - translates, near as I can make out, to "Elephants, elephants, I like elephants." which I found, somewhere in the mists of you-tube, as a track accompanying the legolas/oliphaunt moment. Yes, it possibly should be mumakil, but - these are nice peaceful ones and I wanted a different word.
> 
> Le-las is, of course, not sindarin but baby talk for legolas. sorry, but I refuse to call him legless.......
> 
> the idea of an injured animal asking for help is very popular in myths, and of course, this one would have been trained and cared for at one time, and - elephants are known for their memories.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [If you go to the zoo today...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1772143) by [hope91](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope91/pseuds/hope91)




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